The Dichotomy of Salazar Slytherin
by KeiGinya
Summary: Naruto&Harry Potter Crossover. Itachi-is-Harry fic. Dying after the climactic battle against Sasuke, meddling from a higher power doesn't allow Uchiha Itachi to STAY dead; identity restored in his soul's new life, he's charged to kill yet another snake.
1. Death

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling and Masashi Kishimoto are the respective creators of _Harry Potter_ and _Naruto_. I, in no way, claim ownership of any respective character, location, term, plot, et cetera; the medium in which they belong to are owned by the original creators and any publishers and companies, et al, in which the material is legally distributed and used for profit.  
If I were Rowling or Kishimoto... well, suffice to say, I'm not them. I'm going to torture Itachi a bit but I'm not going to kill him... maybe.

Beta'd by: _miyagiCE_ and _gufymike_

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**The Dichotomy of Salazar Slytherin**

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_01. Death_

* * *

His little brother stands, backed up against the wall, his gray eyes wide with fear. It was then, Itachi finally knew all he had done, for Konoha and Sasuke, all he had sacrificed, was for naught.

Maybe he had put too much faith in his baby brother, since it was his mistake, he knew, that this young man before him would be part of his home village's destruction. With Itachi dead, this Sasuke would join Madara, would seek to bring violence and war to Konoha. For, Sasuke was simply a boy, a simple boy who would be easily manipulated by that nefarious Madara – like how he was lured to Orochimaru's side.

All he did for nothing, Itachi thought as he raised a hand. At least, the twenty-one year old was willing to acknowledge his potential failure and set a fail-safe in Uzumaki Naruto, who would probably fulfill what he could not.

Itachi poked his little brother's forehead for the last time with effort, leaving a trail of smeared blood as he dropped the hand to his sides again. He took an unsteady step back.

Even now, with what he foresaw Sasuke's path would be, Itachi still loved his precious baby brother despite things.

He smiled.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke. There won't be a next time."

The twenty-one year old wavered, half-collapsing on the frozen teen. He stumbled and supported himself again, before the fight to keep standing was lost and he fell.

He knew he was not going to wake up again, as he lay on the ground, and took his last breath.

* * *

Itachi wavered, his vision swimming, suddenly finding himself in a sea of splintered wood and fire, the open sky above dark instead of the brightness of day he had remembered last.

The heavy pounding of blood against his skull was still present, his vision stained red from a head wound he didn't remember receiving, not having expected to still have his sight in the first place.

He was slightly surprised, the first hint of emotion after regaining consciousness. The twenty-one year old had given his Sharingan to his little brother, sacrificing his vision because he was going to die. Itachi should be dead, yet his current state belied the thought and his emotions grew as thoughts started tumbling down like the building around him.

At fifteen, he had been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease that was terminal, his lifespan predicted to be thirty with treatment not taking into account he was a ninja. The drugs he took to suppress his immune system made him susceptible to infections, eventually developing chronic pneumonia and contracting a virus that attacked the white matter of his brain – the real cause of his vision loss – at seventeen. It was only with a slew of steroids, drugs, and intensive treatment that Itachi had stayed alive long enough to see the last fight with Sasuke.

He had considered it karma, having accidentally killed his former Genin teammate, who would have been the only one able to cure him and whose death birthed those cursed eyes.

Itachi deserved nothing less than death for murdering his parents and Sayo – he had been sick enough to keel over any minute—

He had thought the pain was finally over, that he could arrive at Takama-ga-hara and begin to beg Sayo for forgiveness (Itachi dared not think his female ex-teammate would not have gone to Heaven) even if he didn't deserve it. If not Heaven, then Yomi to lose himself in oblivion.

Yet he was so obviously alive, having seen Heaven before and knowing Yomi was cold and the stars and night sky a distant memory never to be seen again in that realm.

The twenty-one year old was sick of the torture; why wouldn't it end?

A wail of a child sounded through the night, Itachi startling himself so much the control was overtaken and he was unable to stop the exact moment he realized the sound emitted from his mouth.

He took a moment to consider the implications, trying to move and proving he was in a toddler's body when he tumbled like a daruma doll, his blood-stained vision catching sight of a body a few feet away.

It was a woman with – the tears having cleared his vision somewhat – persimmon red hair. Itachi's eyes focused and, suddenly, her face snapped into clarity, showing fair skin marred by tears tracked from blank, almond-shaped green eyes.

The sight broke Itachi – _dead_, he hated death – and he was unaware of being picked up, the conversation between two men, the flight through the sky. He was inconsolable, the last thread keeping him together having unraveled; Itachi was consumed with grief, pain, guilt, self-hate, (Hate. _Hate._ HATE.) until the exhaustion of his toddler form consumed him in the void of dreamless rest.

Sayo had been a delicate point for the twenty-one year old, a secret even Madara was unaware of lest the conniving man manipulate Itachi with her memory (Madara had already affected him with his comments about Miho Uchiha, who Madara thought had been Itachi's girlfriend), so it was only obvious that the ninja would snap when confronted with the image of a dead woman who looked so much like his ex-teammate.

Right down to her brilliant green eyes.

The hair like the bloody evening sky fanned across porcelain skin; she would look like she had only been sleeping.

—Sayo _had_ looked like she was sleeping on that hospital bed—

If not for the emptiness of the eyes.

The unseeing gaze of brilliant green haunted him.

* * *

In a cluttered office, reachable by a gargoyle revealing spiraling stairs when given the correct password, of a certain magical school, Albus Dumbledore sat behind a large wooden desk, attention on a crystal ball atop a cleared area amongst paperwork and knickknacks. The Headmaster had tuned into Hagrid at just the right time, the half-giant standing before the doorstep of a quaint little Muggle home. The elderly man quickly pulled out the Elder Wand and started silently casting spells at the crystal ball, complicated spells that would add audio to the scene and change the bird's-eye view to something closer to Earth.

His first sight of Harry Potter after a decade was surprising, which was more exaggeratedly mirrored in the half-giant guide when Hagrid inquired for Harry and the boy at the doorway announced he was the toddler whom they left on that doorstep on that early, early November morning.

Long dark hair pulled back into a low ponytail, shorter layers framing the porcelain and delicate looking face. His eyes were a dark-blue instead of the brilliant green Dumbledore had remembered it to be during times before that Halloween night. If it weren't for the lightning-shaped scar on his bare forehead, it would be unbelievable this was Harry Potter – and even the scar was barely visible against the otherwise unmarred complexion, having only the slightly off texture and being two shades different from his skin to differentiate it.

Dumbledore leaned back, deciding he'd contemplate whether the differences meant anything later, stroking his long beard as light-blue eyes remained fixated on the unknowing pair.

"You've been part of the staff of Hogwarts for a long time?" the boy inquired with a naturally soft and polite tone.

Hagrid replied in the affirmative with a little extra information that set Dumbledore's eyes twinkling in fondness and slight exasperation; the half-giant was a good person and loyal, but had trouble keeping secrets when relaxed because of his tendency to speak before he thought.

There was silence for a long moment, before the child looking up and staring at the Gamekeeper with the unchanging calm expression he had since opening the front door of Number 4.

"Can you tell me about Lily Evans?"

* * *

To Be Continued.

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End Notes: Will continue if there's enough feedback; if not, I'll just let it wallow for awhile. The premise was spawned from a Naruto Crossover, where Itachi is reborn as Harry's little brother, I read that left me wanting a story that was an _actual_ Itachi-is-reborn-as-Harry fic with a slightly more sober and serious air to the story-telling and characterization.

(And all you Mary-Sue worriers – which would be most of us – don't worry. Sayo is a plot device. Hell, her name means 'lamb', for goodness's sake.)


	2. Choice

**Disclaimer:** I would never have created such a Gary-Stu that is Uchiha Sasuke nor would I have ever killed off one-half of a pair of twins thinking 'at least there's a spare' so neither _Naruto_ or_ Harry Potter_ are mine. I don't own anything. Not even 'Sayo'. :cries dramatically:

Beta'd by: _miyagiCE_ and _gufymike_

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**The Dichotomy of Salazar Slytherin**

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_02. Choice_

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Itachi's nights were blissfully blank.

That was the thought that occasionally floated to the surface of his mind throughout the first years of his life as Harry Potter – not that he was aware that was his name for the first year or so of this life. With the torture in sleep waylaid, Itachi half-expected his waking life to be doubly torturous, but he found it extremely easy to push away the emotions and memories derived from his past sins when awake, because he found himself in a completely foreign location and situation.

He was completely removed from being 'Uchiha Itachi', and everything that name and life entailed.

Still, it was knowledge gained from his Genin days that aided him in his first months in Number Four, Privet Drive. Team Genma, consisting of Shiranui Genma as the instructor, Asanagi Sayoko, the one year older Tenzou, and himself had been exceedingly close as a team, bleeding and blending with each other. Interests were vicariously shared – whether intentional or not – while skills were traded between the three younger members, mostly because of their team leader's method of instruction and personality.

Thanks to the babysitting D-Rank missions given to Team Genma because of their ages, Itachi knew all about toddlers and infants.

Each member had a different skill set; the boys had forced Sayo to learn ninjutsu they knew while she taught what they could do from her own repertoire. History, in particular, they each had their preferred field of interest. Itachi had been more knowledgeable about politics. Genma, whose hobby had been traveling, had extensive knowledge about geography and cultures. Tenzou, because of his circumstances, was technically the true history buff of the team, knowing most of Konoha's general history and then furthering his knowledge when Genma's influence came to play. Sayo had been obsessed with the obscure – mythology, folklore, mysticism – and warfare.

Itachi knew that the individuals before the team were different from the people emerging from the Team after. He could not accurately say what the others found in their time as a team and team leader but Itachi knew what he gained. Itachi remembered how to smile and laugh without the shadow of the harsh reality of life simmering right beneath the happy emotion that had been present ever since his cousin died in the Third Great Shinobi World War. He found something deeper than love.

From the basics he knew from tutoring as a clan heir, Itachi emerged from his time with Team Genma with excess knowledge of foreign lands, more history, and a passion for mythology that was further inflamed in his time within Akatsuki.

That was how Itachi realized he was outside the Elemental Countries, in one of the roughly three regions where English was the majority language, after listening to the Dursleys that first day, eventually knowing he had been reincarnated when contemplating how he came to be in his situation (and in toddler form).

The first few months in his new life passed by without heavy contemplation, Itachi getting used to his predicament. Mechanically, without much thought, he pursued learning the language and mastering his young body with a fierce single-mindedness.

Life with the Dursleys was very easygoing, considering Petunia and Vernon tried very hard to pay as little mind to Itachi as they could. He had long ago noticed he had not been exactly welcome in their home – though how he came to Number Four was still a blur – so had trained himself to be independent quickly.

Ignoring the incident when Itachi had first looked at a mirror, he had spent the next few years of his life as Harry Potter barely plagued by feelings of overwhelming guilt, falling into a monotonous routine living with the Dursleys; going to nursery (the minimum hours so his attendance remained free), going to Arabella Figg's house, chores, and the cupboard under the stairs.

Itachi was aware that his treatment was far from ethical – worse than how Naruto had been treated if one considered his sleeping in a cupboard – but while he was physically a child, mentally, he was a disciplined veteran ninja that had experienced many worse sleeping conditions. While the cupboard was locked from the outside, making his situation akin to a prisoner, it was nothing compared to shinobi torture chambers; Itachi could open the lock anytime, and could even escape the Dursleys if he had the mind to.

His indolence (Genma seemed to have rubbed off on him more than Itachi realized) regarding his life as Harry Potter lasted until Year One in Primary, when Itachi was already becoming slightly annoyed at Vernon and Petunia's suspicious looks and Dudley being a terror in school, and Itachi finally had a meeting that brought light to his situation.

If he had paid any mind to the date, the five year old would have realized it was only a day or two after his death – though the Elemental Countries and England went by different calendars – when he reunited with One that was part of Uchiha Itachi's old life.

* * *

Itachi slowly opened his eyes, finding himself standing above whorls of opaque gray mist. Sensing a presence before him, the five year old looked up, only to realize he was standing above storm clouds as he observed Susano'o, the god of the sea and storms, reclining on a slightly raised cloud like it was a throne.

The preferred form of Susano'o was a tall, ageless man with long silvery waves of hair and eyes like lightning which were usually hidden by a half-mask that was currently absent. Normally placid, half-lidded eyes were glowing with power yet Susano'o looked to be in a good mood (though you can never rely on perception since Susano'o was as whimsical in his moods as the seas and storms he represented), suggesting the god was recently returned from a fight of some sort.

Dark-blue eyes glanced up, seeing the red flashes in the distant upper-atmosphere, laced with greenish-blue threads that provided light to see with the aid of blue shooting stars closer to the pair that were in fact also lightning.

The five year old returned his gaze to the god just in time to see a silver eyebrow arch up in surprise, just as the pair was lit up from a flash of lightning, Susano'o speaking first, "You look remarkably like yourself, though younger, when I was informed your reincarnated form would have green eyes."

Itachi tilted his head slightly; it was the first time he heard the Elemental language in years. Once the words translated themselves, the youth did not bother commenting, mind flashing back briefly to the first time he laid eyes on a mirror as Harry Potter.

"Susano'o-no-Mikoto," his light child voice greeted.

The god tsked, still looking his new body over, "We still find it ironic that though you are our Champion, you are a clone of our brother in looks. Tsukuyomi also favors you the most because of that oft-used technique named after him – we would have thought our brother tried to make you his avatar, if we didn't know better."

The boy stayed silent. Susano'o was arguably the most chatty of the three siblings and his remark about physical similarities between Itachi and the moon god was accurate, the former Uchiha having been to Takama-ga-hara and met the three kami in person. Disregarding the eyes, Itachi had looked like a younger, shorter, Tsukuyomi, who had a delicate porcelain almost-androgynous face and sweeping black hair that pooled to the floor. By the time of his death, with his long, thin face and the gentle curve of his jawline, Itachi had identical face structure to the moon god.

Susano'o smirked, "But then, I can imagine it being painful for your reflection's gaze to have the same eyes as your former teammate—"

Itachi was unable to prevent the slight jerk of the god's words hitting the bull's eye.

"Even though her eyes were a dominant trait," the stretch of his lips widened slightly at Itachi's involuntary movement, "But. We are not here for digression."

Figuring this was an appropriate time to cut in, Itachi spoke up, "Why was I reincarnated?"

"So I don't have to explain your predicament," Susano'o stated in amusement before shifting to a more imperious and somber disposition, "We have a task for you. 'Harry Potter' had been ordained by Destiny to be a Chosen One fated to clash against the Dark Lord plaguing the Western World. He has been a pest, bringing Imbalance, and had committed the greatest sin in fiddling with his own soul. Seeing you dislike the Snake as much as we do, we just arranged for you to be reincarnated as Harry Potter, and unlock your life as Uchiha Itachi on the fated meeting between you two. The inevitable, foreordained event. That night, when the veil between the mortal and immortal realms were thinnest, was Hitsuzen.

"Think of it as finishing the retrieval of the Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi from that blasted over-sized worm or a favor for letting your little brother use our and our siblings' powers," Susano'o commented before frowning, "But Destiny was very clear I could not order you in any way, so, you have a choice: you can stay and retrieve the sword or you can return to the Elemental Countries."

"What?"

"It's been a day since the battle with Uchiha Sasuke, our Champion."

Itachi's eyes widened, "But… how?"

"One needs to understand that time is linear, yet a soul is not necessarily constrained by time or space. At its simplest, time is like a möbius strip; what is to happen has already happened. Of course, the natural order of things tries to prevent souls from simultaneously existing at the same time but a soul is flexible."

There was a pause of silence, occasionally broken by the muffled sounds of thunder.

The god's gaze turned half-lidded, "Of course, the soul that had once been known as Asanagi Sayoko is another matter entirely…"

Dark-blue eyes snapped to the reclining Eastern God.

"Now, don't look at us that way. Other than being the perfect candidate to deal with that Snake, we have also considered your wants, being able to see it because you are our Champion. You could have come to Heaven after your death… but the one you seek forgiveness from does not reside in Takama-ga-hara."

"What?" Itachi interrupted in cold shock.

"I simply granted your wish which was also convenient for myself; the one who had been Asanagi Sayoko had been reincarnated as Lily Evans-Potter. That would be your current life's mother. Granted, we are not sure why you should feel guilty for accidentally killing her when one of her incarnations was the one who killed you in your original life—"

"Lily…?" Itachi uttered, remembering the offhanded comments Vernon and Petunia had made over the years about his parents.

There was a moment without any words from either males before Susano'o started again, "Yes, she was killed that night by the latest incarnation of the snake with a spell that obliterates the soul."

The five year old looked completely traumatized by the god's words.

"It, in a way, is a good thing for the one you know as 'Sayo'."

Dark-blue eyes locked onto the god's, half a second from a glare depending on the next words from the divinity.

"She has been stuck in a chaotic circle of reincarnation due to being a foreign soul alien to this world originally. The Killing Curse essentially inducted her soul into the natural order if it were to reform; Destiny's own way of ironing out the wrinkles."

"The Killing Curse can be reversed if the caster is killed," Susano'o informed Itachi silkily, "The victims would still be dead, but their souls would enter the cycle again."

The storm god sat up and leaned forward, "Now. What will you choose? Your former teammate. Or your brother?"

* * *

To Be Continued.

* * *

End Notes: The whole Itachi-having-something-to-do-with-the-Shinto-Gods is vaguely influenced by chapter two of _Imperial Mint_'s Cursed Salvation, Descending Redemption (ID Number: 4273923). The story that spawned this bunny is Reincarnation? (ID: 5857055) from _IReadNoNonsense_.

The odd lightning I was referring to are called sprites and blue jets, which I didn't name because they technically weren't recorded at this point in time (both were 'discovered' around 1989, if I recall correctly).

...and trying to portray the concept of _nakama_ and _aibou_ in English was more difficult than I thought possible, though _gufy_'s comments seemed to make me think I managed to pull it off. Maybe.

Blame my reading up on the later Naruto manga chapters while researching for the subtle Sasuke snub that is the ending; I managed to think DANZOU was frickin' understandable in his ruthlessness while coming out with a new loathing for Sasuke, somehow. The old war hawk was like, "[Sasuke] is your only mistake, Itachi" in chapter 478 and I passionately spat out "DAMN RIGHT HE IS!" So, yeah, I'm feelin' the hate for Sasuke all anew. :laughing:

*I made Yamato younger since the wiki states he's 26 in Shippuuden. Couldn't resist the whole Uchiha white sheep and Shodaime!Clone set-up for a genin team.


	3. Life

**Disclaimer:** Itachi is a bit tetchy; understandable when you consider he lived under the roof of the Dursleys for almost a decade… um, what? Oh. Oh, yeah! Not mine.

Beta'd by: _miyagiCE_ and _gufymike_

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**The Dichotomy of Salazar Slytherin**

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_03. Life_

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Itachi walked into the Dursley residence one July morning, shortly after his relatives should be done with breakfast, it being a weekday, to find Petunia and Vernon having a hushed argument in the kitchen. The fear in their eyes that appeared when they saw him would have been normal, if it didn't appear to the ten year old they were hiding something.

Surveying the room, he ignored when Dudley squeaked and scuttled off at the sight of him, eyes locking on the mostly uneaten plates of bacon and eggs that were on the table. If their suspicious silence wasn't telling enough, the fact that Vernon didn't eat food set out plainly before him was practically damning.

The silence stretched uncomfortably for the older pair, Vernon breaking out into a cold sweat while Petunia started shivering. Itachi stayed quiet, his simple presence enough to cause the Dursleys to feel climbing terror. After a minute, the ten year old shifted slightly; they broke.

"B-boy," Vernon stuttered.

Dark-blue eyes darted to the overweight man, causing Vernon to flinch.

"Potter," his aunt's voice was sturdier and she seemed to steel herself to give him an order.

Itachi arched an eyebrow, mentally making a noise of comprehension, when he spotted the envelope in the woman's grasp; Susano'o had mentioned that things would begin when he turned eleven and it was almost the 31st. "Is that letter for me?" he inquired.

Petunia faltered, whatever she had been bracing herself to say lost as she hunched slightly – body language showing self-defense, meaning whatever she had wanted to say would not have agreed with Itachi. Her manicured hands were like claws around the slightly crumpled letter, opening and closing for several moments before she jerkily extended the envelope to the ten year old, holding it by a corner so it was less likely for their hands to accidentally come in contact.

Eyes skimming over the recipient's address to find his new life's name and location down to 'cupboard under the stairs', he flipped the letter to reveal a wax seal with an elaborate coat-of-arms consisting of four animals on a shield – one of which was a snake. Slipping a finger underneath the fold to break the seal, he pulled out two sheets of parchment (made from animal hide and Itachi wondered if animal welfare organizations were aware of this since even he held a bit of distaste holding the limed calfskin).

As he read through the letter, his eyes gradually narrowed to slits. He wondered over the sparse acceptance letter to a school he hadn't been aware of beforehand and greatly doubted the Dursleys would sign him up for. They were already terrified over what little they were witness and subjected to, why would they conceivably give him _more_ ammunition? No, this most likely had something to do with his late parents with how the Dursleys had a propensity to call the Potters 'freaks' before they learned better.

Slowly, his dark-blue eyes moved to lock on his blood-Aunt's form; Petunia would know more than her husband, having been Lily's sister.

"Explain," he uttered in a monotone.

After a conversation that ended with a tetchy ten year old and two adults nearly wetting themselves because of his retaliation to their harsh demeaning words, Itachi left the domicile in search of an owl. He ended up staking out the tree in the backyard for the night, before he sensed chakra from a larger than average avian form at the dawn of the next day.

Perking up from the tree branch he had reclined in, he dropped to the lawn, lightly stepped on a rose from a well-tended bush to boost himself onto the fence. Itachi rushed down the thin barrier without aid of chakra, using sure, rapid footwork to close in on Number Four's garage. He jumped atop the garage, ran the few steps before pushing off and clinging to the side of the house with the lightest use of chakra at the base of his trainer-clad feet. Flipping onto the roof, he darted to the highest point of the tiled roof before launching off with a boost of chakra to his leg muscles, the owl having not noticed the ten year old until it was abruptly snatched out of its descending flight.

Itachi landed in the front yard with barely a disturbance. The panicking bird taking a moment to calm itself down, just to discover it was perfectly alright – barely a feather was out-of-place that was not of its own doing – and the owl could only turn its head to Itachi and somehow manage to convey sheepishness only a magical animal could.

* * *

On July 31st, the day Itachi turned eleven, the doorbell rang through the mostly empty house of the Dursleys. Vernon had left for work early and Petunia had hauled Dudley off to who-knows-where, no doubt because Itachi had informed them that someone would come fetch him so he could retrieve his supplies today.

The dark-haired preteen opened the front door and immediately felt the faint ripple on his skin and an awareness within his mind he was being observed under a long-distance spying technique. Itachi made no outward action he was aware of the attention, steadily observing the giant of a man (who was equally as hairy) standing on the front step, with his head stooped low so his face was visible from the archway of the door.

"I'm here fer Harry Potter?" the man's voice was gruff and had an odd rolling accent that gave an impression of a rural individual whose way of life had no need for higher education (considering British Education highly valued enunciation and proper speech).

"I am he."

The man looked flabbergasted, causing Itachi to politely arch a brow over the obvious reaction of the man having least expected that reply. Beetle-black eyes stared at dark-blue eyes before darting over Itachi, eventually locking onto the faint scar on his forehead between the part of his wispy bangs. It was quite obvious the man had an idea what Itachi looked like as a toddler in this life, and there was a vague familiarity of his chakra that the boy couldn't _quite_ recall.

"Er… uh, sorry 'bout that, Harry, but yeh look different from when you was a baby," the man flustered, "Had yer mother's eyes and typical Potter hair, y'know."

Itachi waited for the man to calm down, not bothering to inform the stranger about how green eyes reverted back to his original color in his past life.

"Name's Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper o' the Keys an' the Grounds at Hogwarts. So, righ'… we best be headin' off, don' we?" Hagrid announced awkwardly. "Er, better tell the Dursleys yer goin' first?"

"They've already left the house," Itachi informed the giant of a man as he moved to close the front door behind him.

The trip itself took the better part of the day, Itachi's scoping out of the wizarding society and seeking of information rather limited because he felt the ever-present observing unknown restraining his actions. They had taken the rail into London before switching to the underground, and eventually entering a pub behind a rather elaborate illusion that seemed to be broken by someone else pointing out the dingy hole-in-the-wall.

They had went out the back to face a brick wall which rearranged itself to reveal an empty alleyway, the pair turning into what was Diagon Alley and Itachi's first sight of this secret wizarding world.

The shopping excursion was rather routine, except for four points: the discovery of his parents leaving him a miniature fortune (Itachi had already had the pounds for the retrieval of supplies on him, courtesy of a rather pale Vernon Dursley who had taken to giving Itachi money when it was needed without prompt after the blowout rage of six years past), information about James Potter and Lily Evans from a source that didn't hate their very existence, a chance to procure bladed weapons at the warning off of Knockturn Alley for the inevitable extermination of a certain snake, and receiving a female snowy owl from Hagrid which he promptly named Hedwig (he had initially planned on naming her after Jadwiga of Poland who initially was brought to Itachi's attention by Tenzou, out of respect for the female gender, before deciding to change the name to how she was known in English when Hagrid gave him a blank look. Hedwig, a girl who was a King instead of a Queen in a time where female monarchs were rare).

When he was escorted back to Little Whinging and Itachi finally felt the spying technique end, the eleven year old endeavored to make a few more trips to the Alleys to buy books and study the culture a bit more without the nearer and farther presences observing his every actions; he had the whole of August to gather data on this niche society and active intelligence on the current state of being.

"See yeh in September, Harry," Hagrid said as Itachi stood at the front door of Number Four. After the eleven year old said his own departing words, the giant of a man looked between Itachi and the trunk beside him for a moment before finally walking away; clearly still remembering how effortless the preteen had handled the luggage filled with his supplies during the trip back.

After a few minutes, Itachi turned around and opened the door with the Saratoga-grade trunk held under one arm when he sensed that the Groundskeeper was far enough away. He took a few steps into the house before he was informed by his Aunt that he was to sleep in Dudley's second bedroom. The eleven year could not help quirking a brow at the sight of a bed, desk, and wardrobe amongst the rows of broken toys which was what the original purpose of the room had been for (storage).

Apparently, the elder Dursleys had taken the first chance that Itachi was away from Little Whinging to set this up – no doubt the address of his acceptance letter still clear on their minds.

"How… thoughtful of you, Aunt Petunia," Itachi remarked with his usual noncommittal tone; Petunia just flinched slightly at his voice before walking away from him without a comment.

Itachi took in and contemplated his Aunt's (usually) hidden fear of him before long lashes fluttered down to hide dark-blue eyes as he exhaled. He should be feeling guilty, the boy was aware, but it was the simple truth that he was more than acquainted with blood relations being distant and the idea that 'family' did not automatically equate with 'love'. And while he knew that terrifying them with his illusions six years ago and how he kept them in their state of wariness could be thought of as somewhat tyrannical, he had done much more for less.

Like how he had bloodied his hands and executed the Uchiha Clan because they simply existed.

Madara had killed the Clan Elders but Itachi was guilty of killing every other one, including his own father.

Itachi laughed bitterly; both Susano'o and Sayo were correct about his pacifistic beliefs being foolish.

What did he accomplish as Uchiha Itachi, ninja of Konoha? He had been ostracized because he had been heir of the Clan. He had then slaughtered his Clan with the approval of the village to prevent a civil war. He joined the Akatsuki and had to put up with his cursed, evil ancestor for years. He planned his own death. Yet, in the end, all Uchiha Itachi accomplished was creating a high body count – Sasuke had finally gotten his revenge but Itachi had inadvertently created a psychotic sociopath that was his little brother.

Blood, death, destruction and doubtlessly more death because it was Itachi's fault that Sasuke had ended up running to the snake before more than likely clinging to the last remaining Uchiha after he died, meaning any deaths at the hands of Sasuke were his own sins.

Madara.

The eleven year old's face scrunched up in agony within the privacy of his new room, sitting heavily on the bed before burying his head into his hands.

He had made his choice, but he knew he would be unable to drop the events of the Elemental Countries from his mind. As soon as Itachi got rid of the snake and retrieved the Kusanagi Sword once and for all, there was unfinished business as Uchiha Itachi to be resolved. If Madara was still alive when he set foot into the region as 'Harry Potter', Itachi would take it upon himself to finally rid the world of that abomination.

Sasuke was strong – that was ultimately why Itachi chose to stay in Europe – and could survive on his own. Sure, the teen had disappointed him, but Itachi still loved Sasuke just as much as he had when his little infant brother looked at him adoringly before saying his name for the first time all those years ago.

His little brother was strong but it was doubtful Sasuke would ever be strong enough to kill Madara; it was up to Itachi if the man were still alive then.

* * *

An eleven year old boy strolled through King's Cross Station wearing charcoal-gray trousers, v-neck jumper, and loose tie with a white shirt beneath that had its top few buttons undone to reveal a necklace of rings about the size of a one pound coin connect to each other by fine silver chains. Along with the trunk being pulled on a trolley, the uniformed boy barely merited a second glance compared to all the other students leaving for their respective boarding schools this morning, ignoring the second glances to double-check he was, in fact, a _boy_ with long hair by looking down to see he wore trousers instead of a skirt.

Itachi inattentively traversed the train station, walking toward the ninth and tenth platforms, barely studying the illusion on the barrier as he walked through without pause. The eleven year old assessed the platform for the Hogwarts Express with a quick glance before heading onto the train. Finding the first empty compartment, he went in, tucked away his luggage, before slumping onto a cushioned bench with bad posture that mothers had nightmares over.

The month of August passed without much fanfare, Itachi spending the first day picking through what could be kept amongst the piles of abandoned/broken toys in the second bedroom before burning the rest. Other than the momentary destruction of property that indulged his inner pyromaniac, he spent a rather dull month with a few trips to the Alleys and an extensive amount of time reading history books.

Overall, the only significantly important thing for the present he discovered was that Harry Potter was apparently famous – when Itachi had demolished the crate of chocolate frogs he bought, he ended up with three cards of himself. As a baby.

The compartment door was slid open, before a redhead ducked his head to look at Itachi, who he had only saw the feet on the cushioned seats since the eleven year old had reclined himself against the door-side of the compartment to watch the wizards and witches on the platform through the window.

"Is this seat taken," the redhead asked after taking in the other first year, "Everywhere else's full."

"It isn't," Itachi replied simply, returning his gaze toward the window as the other boy got himself settled.

At exactly eleven, the Hogwarts Express started, the redhead awkwardly breaking the silence after the steam-engine train pulled out of the station. "Er, name's Ron Weasley; it's my first year too."

Dark-blue eyes trailed from the emerging countryside to the other eleven year old. Hair a fiery-orange, freckles more than unblemished skin, blue eyes and gangly limbs – Ron Weasley wore clothing showing signs of too many washes that suggested they were second-hand or hand-me-downs and a distinct lack of artificial material (or modern details of zippers) implied the boy was probably a 'pureblood'.

With the smudge on his nose, Ron reminded Itachi of Naruto in the days of ANBU when Kakashi was still his Captain and their squad had 'babysitting' duty, a stage in the blond's life where he became belligerent but a bit before he turned to pranking.

"My name is Harry Potter," he greeted in turn.

Ron's eyes widened before his eyes ventured to Itachi's forehead. "_Har__—_ You mean _the_ Harry Potter? Does that mean you have the— you know?" the redhead gestured to his own forehead.

Itachi resisted the odd urge to roll his eyes he hadn't felt since Tenzou started fangirling over a new history book, before the Mission and ANBU. "It's there," he answered.

The other boy leaned forward, his eyes squinted almost comically as he observed Itachi's forehead before looking oddly disappointed, "I think I see it… but I'd thought it'd be more noticeable."

"Scars do heal over the years," the dark-haired eleven year old replied vaguely.

"Yeah, but You-Know-Who cast the killing curse on you so—," he then suddenly switched directions and asked conspiratorially, "Do you… remember that night?"

Itachi would have been amused if Ron's question didn't pull the dreadful memories of that night to the forefront of his mind. The pain, confusion – the red hair and green eyes. He violently shoved the images back and just blankly stated, "I was one."

Ron looked slightly sheepish and conversation thankfully moved away from the touchy topic. They talked about their respective families (mostly Ron's rather large one), the magical world, Hogwarts, and Quidditch.

The redhead had been in the middle of talking about a team called the Chudley Cannons when they were interrupted by a woman coming by with the tea trolley, Itachi reflexively buying two of everything (except for the chocolate frogs, which he pretty much cleared the cart of) since he had always been the one to pay for food with his old teammates, being the Uchiha heir and accumulating money otherwise since he never spent it.

Shortly after Itachi convinced the redhead to have his share of the treats and their conversation turned to wizarding sweets (a topic Itachi was actually very interested in), there was a knock on the door. A slightly pudgy, round-faced boy their age slid open the compartment door, looking timid and giving the general air of an easily scared, slightly overweight rabbit.

"Um," he hesitated seemingly nervous with the sudden attention on him, "H-have you two seen a toad?"

After getting negative replies from the boys in the compartment, the blond shyly parted with a 'sorry to bother you' before leaving.

There was a moment of silence before the redhead broke it, "Speaking of pets, do you have one, Harry?"

"An owl. I sent her to Hogwarts ahead of me," Itachi answered before maneuvering the conversation back to their previous conversation, his sweet-tooth practically aching to taste some of the chocolate treats Ron described before.

Unfortunately, while Itachi was drilling the redhead over something called choco-locos slightly masochistically (since he obviously couldn't try it immediately), they were interrupted again. A brunette girl with bushy hair, brown eyes, and cream-colored skin started asking about a toad, Itachi reflexively placing the shy blond's name as Neville.

The dark-haired eleven year old was slightly distracted, only half listening to the pair's conversation as he studied Hermione Granger; her chakra was familiar though Itachi was a hundred percent sure he had never met the girl before today.

After Hermione left, the rest of the train ride passed without anymore intrusions, Itachi pulling on the black robe as the train arrived to their destination and having a phantom remembrance of his ANBU days as the hooded robe with gray-lining settled on his form; he had entered ANBU when he was eleven years old too.

Exiting the Express, the first years gathered around Hagrid before scrambling across the forest to get into boats that traversed the black surface of a lake, getting their first sight of Hogwarts castle before getting back on land and eventually arriving inside Hogwarts itself.

The Deputy Headmistress took them into a side-room from the Great Hall, leaving them alone for a moment to 'straighten themselves up' looking pointedly at Ron's still smudged nose (despite Hermione having pointed it out to him before) and Itachi's long hair and uniform collar (in response, Itachi looked away in uninterested boredom).

When the first years entered the Great Hall, Itachi watched with everyone else as an ancient-looking hat was placed on the stool McGonagall had been carrying before it broke out into song, the eleven year old frowning at the fact his mind would be invaded. He was always surrounded by secrets – sometimes drowned in them – but this also had the potential of revealing the fact 'Harry Potter' remembered his past life.

Itachi did not move a muscle as names were called one by one until his own came up, a sudden burst of chattering exploding from the four tables, the eleven year old able to hear snippets of what they were saying as he slowly walked up to be Sorted.

"Did she say—"

"Harry Potter?"

"The Harry Potter?"

"He looks—"

"—different from what I—"

"He's cute!"

Itachi suddenly shuddered, his somber mood dissipating as a chill crept up his spine; if he survived this latest obstacle without any waves, would he have to put up with… fangirls?

Probably a fluke, the boy tried to convince himself and promptly ignored the rest of the murmurings as he reached the Hat and shoved it over his head with a speed that belied his want to get a barrier between himself and the stares.

"_Well now, do you mind letting me into your mind? I can't really sort you, otherwise. I'm not allowed to divulge anything I see or find in a student's mind, if that's what you're worried about_," the baritone's comment was not physical.

He really contemplated the request for a long moment, before opening his mind completely – there were some memories he did not like to replay more than they already did and the only way to not see what the Hat looked through was to break down all barriers between surface thoughts, memories, emotions, wishes, ambitions, et cetera, so the complex mind became one entity.

There was a silence.

"_Itachi Uchiha, is it?_" the Hat murmured absentmindedly, "_Intelligent and quick-witted, you are. There is also a vast amount of loyalty in you for you village, your brother, and your team – though the loyalty might go beyond what Helga Hufflepuff would have approved of._

"_You belong to the Slytherin House, though you doubtlessly lack a superiority complex the house has – quite the opposite I say; how odd souls are._"

Itachi wrinkled his brow beneath the Hat. Before he could voice his reservations of being sorted into the House of Snakes, or question the sentient object's peculiar wording, the Sorting Hat continued.

"_But no, I think your best friend would be happy that you'll be sorted into their House; for the bravery it took to make your choice, you belong in…_

"_GRYFFINDOR!_"

* * *

To Be Continued.

**

* * *

**

_**Omake**_

* * *

In the Realm of High Heaven, where the Eastern Gods dwelt, Susano'o and two other kami were in an isolated garden part of the palace, partaking in drinks and a plate of something more solid between them as they sat under the roof of the gazebo that floated above a lake. Ame-no-Uzume, the goddess of dawn and revelry, lounged luxuriously as she observed how the surface of the water sparkled in the light, dressed with her kimono half-falling off as usual while she held her cup of sake in a limp grip. Susano'o reclined back against a high pile of pillows, legs splayed uncaringly, a white porcelain half-mask decorated with gold and silver embellishments covered his eyes and most of his nose. Opposite sat Ame-no-Koyane in seiza, the voice of Fate within the kami, dressed in traditional onmyouji garbs of white and purple.

"It is good that Uchiha Itachi chose to accept his task, Susano'o," Ame-no-Koyane remarked politely.

Susano'o scoffed and looked away while the goddess among the trio turned her gaze back to her companions.

"I doubt it was chance," her painted red lips twisted into an almost cruel sneer that in no way could be called a smile.

"We must let mortals have free will; even Gods cannot force an individual to do anything against their will," the prophet demurred.

The storm god leaned forward in an abrupt burst of aggressiveness. "Free will? Do stop spouting that nonsense; could it still be called freedom of choice if divine circumstances arranged but one single option to select from?", Susano'o slowly returned to his relaxed position before giving a closed-off smirk, "Though it only leans toward our favor."

Ame-no-Uzume perked up, lips turning into a light frown, "Ah, yes, that Nameless soul? Her people were originally like the Leon tribe while they had still been nomads, correct? Pretty green eyes and half-divine abilities that made them able to cultivate a rainforest from a desert," she stared at her empty cup, "You really do favor that Uchiha Itachi, Susano'o; I want to meet the person able to influence the heartless bastard I know. You even went through the trouble of retrieving that Necklace for him. Old age is making you sentimental."

Susano'o glanced at the smirking goddess before pouring and emptying his cup of sake in one shot, not bothering to reply to the woman's latter comments. "While Gods are confined to the specific mortals that worship them, the hands of Destiny and Fate stretch to other universes and dimensions. It was hitsuzen that foreign soul was robbed of name and life by the parasite, that she would kill our Champion's original incarnation, that they would become teammates a millennium after; the threads of Fate had tied the two souls together for this moment. That. Is their Destiny."

"It was Uchiha Itachi's choice to forge such close ties," the prophet ducked his head to hide his eyes as he gave a mysterious half-smile.

"Huh," the goddess stared at the dark-haired divinity, "You don't see him being too tightly knotted with his other teammate's soul."

"The one known as 'Tenzou' has his own destiny that does not coincide with the Dark soul," the prophet replied succinctly, tone suggesting he would not elaborate.

There was a long length of silence, finally broken by Ame-no-Uzume's fading words as Susano'o slowly walked away from the gazebo through the breezeways.

"You say we must let mortals have free will but, really, is the Champion of Susano'o even considered a mortal since he was originally—"

* * *

End Notes: Trying to get through the first year as quick as possible. Hagrid's accent is a b*tch to write.

The omake events do actually happen (this particular scene happened in the time between this and the last chapter), though they're not REALLY important to be woven into the main storyline. They do give tantalizing hints and details. And, yes, I forgot to note in chapter two but Susano'o _does_ use the royal 'we'. (If I were to write any scenes that doesn't actually happen, I'd think I'd label them 'outtakes'.)


End file.
